


Sound the Bells

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [24]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Angst and Romance, Drow, F/F, Normal Life, Tiefling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 14:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13168923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: Lux and Sol plan a date night, like normal people, but it's hard to leave work at the door. (Featuring art!)





	Sound the Bells

**Author's Note:**

> You may have noticed that every Lux story is a song title, but this is the first where the song appears directly in the piece. Give it a listen [here.](https://dessa.bandcamp.com/track/sound-the-bells) Included is my favourite sketch of Sol, drawn by Sol's player @b-e-m-l-t on Tumblr.

“A date.” Sol looked at her Tiefling suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

Aviva shrugged, her smile almost sheepish. “I mean a date. Go out, get a table, eat, drink. Like normal people.”

“We’re not normal people.”

“No, but we can still eat like them!” Aviva laughed. “I know it’s maybe not the ideal city to go looking for a restaurant, but it could be fun. We’ve got the time, and we’re proper Heroes now, so people should at least be polite.” She paused, clearly not wanting to press. “It’s a thought, anyway.”

Sol pursed her lips for a moment before responding, suddenly apprehensive. “I can’t say I’m too keen on leaving the manor grounds, to be honest.”

If Aviva was disappointed, she did not show it; perhaps she had been expecting that answer. Instead, she nodded in understanding. “That’s okay. Maybe we can do something within the walls.”

The Tiefling had not asked for one, bless her trusting heart, but Sol still felt she owed her an explanation. “I know the Seer spread the word that we’re the ones who saved him, so I don’t expect to meet open hostility. But for my own self, I’m not likely to feel comfortable around other Elves without armour and a sword for a long while. I’m just not ready yet.”

“I know.” Aviva took Sol’s hand in hers, her smile gentle, reassuring. “I don’t blame you. Centuries of mistrust don’t go away in a day, and certainly not because one man finally said sorry. The fact that you’re here at all is progress enough.”

“Garden walks are dates, though,” Sol offered instead, trying to quiet the inner whisper that wondered absurdly if she was letting Aviva down. She had forgotten the moments of insecurity that accompanied close companionship and she was none too pleased to feel their return.

“Garden walks _are_ dates,” Aviva agreed with a grin, “and as of now, that’s what we’re doing tonight. I’ll make a basket, we can have a picnic. Like normal people.” She leaned in for a kiss, her free hand rising to touch the weblike scar on her dajyr’s cheek. “I’d like that very much.”

Sol nodded, her forehead brushing Aviva’s, the voice inside her quieting. “Good.”

Leaving another kiss on the Drow’s lips, Aviva rose from the bed. “Then it’s a date. I’m headed into the mercantile district with Morgan now, so I’ll grab a few things while I’m out. I’ll meet you by the garden door at… sundown? Sundown. Wear something soft.”

Sol knew exactly what that meant: _try not to wear your armour_. She smiled faintly as she watched Aviva move about the room, quietly admiring the sincerity of her compassion.

“It’s a date.”

* * *

Sol fastened her belt. As requested, she had left her armour aside, opting instead for the cream-coloured tunic and brown leather vest that lived deep at the bottom of her pack. They were not fancy, but they were clean and comfortable – and soft.

She descended the servants’ stairs to the manor’s kitchen, but saw no flash of purple hair nor crimson tail. She had heard Morgan’s excited chattering echoing down the hall some time ago and knew the pair had returned from their excursion; rather than stopping by their shared room, however, Aviva had made herself scarce for the afternoon. Sol appreciated the extra time to herself after so many months in the party’s immediate company, but it did give her cause to wonder where the Tiefling could have gotten off to.

“Hey sunshine.”

As if on cue, Aviva appeared from the linen closet, carrying a ridiculously ornate blanket she had found and pushing the door shut behind her. She was clad in her usual leather trousers, though not her blouse and surcoat; instead, she wore a deep blue kurta that accentuated her dancer’s figure, the fabric threaded with green and gold vines. Her hair was swept elegantly upward and held in place with a pair of lacquered sticks. She had applied particularly dramatic makeup for the occasion, pairing kohl-rimmed eyes with dark purple lipstick that made her smile seem deep and endless.

“Have you been hiding in there all day?” Sol asked once she had recovered from the view, making the Tiefling snort with laughter. “Probably a bit cramped for a changing room.”

“Cheeky. Morgan let me use her room. I wanted to be able to meet up with you here, make it a little bit special. Not a lot of room for surprises on the road.” Aviva turned toward the kitchen, but Sol caught her hand before she could step away.

“You look beautiful.”

Aviva grinned, her cheeks flushing a deeper red. “As do you.”

Sol raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “I disbelieve your flattery, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” She knew how underdressed she looked by comparison.

“I mean it,” Aviva answered, running her thumb over Sol’s knuckles. “I like when you’re just you.” No rank, no title, no destiny. The weight of the world could wait for one night. She released the Drow’s hand and reached for the basket sitting on the nearest table. “This way.” As she headed for the door to the garden, Sol relieved her of the basket, lacing their fingers together. Still looking ahead, the Tiefling smiled.

The myriad scents of the garden filled the evening air, pleasantly warm for the lateness of the year. They made their way slowly along the gravel paths, twisting through rose bushes and flowering trees, elegant topiaries towering over their heads like sentinel dryads. Sol made a show of looking furtively over her shoulder before plucking a rose from one of the bushes, which Aviva tucked behind her ear with equal faux stealth. When they reached the ivy-covered far wall of the garden, they spread the blanket on a circular patch of grass ringed by low hedges, an area perhaps designed specifically for private stargazing. Aviva presented the contents of her basket: meat, fruits and cheeses accompanied by a small bottle of sweet rice wine. A proper picnic.

They ate, and they drank, and they talked. As usual, Aviva was most interested in what life in Deepgift was like. What sort of food did they eat, what music did they write, what did they do for fun, were there any flowers? In turn she spoke of growing up in Corneria, the beauty of the city during the Festival of Torches, the museums she liked to explore. It was as if they had made a silent pact not to mention their mission, the fear and danger that awaited them. But it lingered at the edges of the conversation, in the shadows of their subject changes. Deepgift was corrupted. Corneria was empty. Neither of them knew what the future would bring.

“Would you sing?” Sol asked softly, setting her sake aside.

Aviva blinked at her. “What, now?” She hesitated, unused to an audience of one. “What would you like to hear?”

“Whatever comes to you.”

Frowning at nothing, Aviva thought for a moment, then she straightened and closed her eyes. She began to sing, her low, resonant melody filling their little clearing. Her song spoke of the sun rising from the west; unnatural, a portent of doom. Over and over the refrain begged the sailors to sound the bells, to stand together in the face of the impossible. If the end comes, she promised, they will have fought their most valiant fight.

Apropos.

Sol felt the pain in Aviva’s voice, the weight of her soul in the words, and her heart ached. When her song concluded, her eyes still closed, the Drow took her face in both hands and kissed her, hard and desperate and returned with equal ferocity. Recovering herself, she released the Tiefling and gently touched her forehead with her own.

“Whatever happens, Aviva Lux… I’m glad you’ll be there with me.”

Aviva nodded. “And I you. Haluei’en.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by Dessa.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


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